


Images

by SilverDagger



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Drabble, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:44:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverDagger/pseuds/SilverDagger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When precisely she went from general to art critic, she doesn't know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Images

Terra has a sketchbook open on her knees, and she's bent over it with a quill clutched in inkstained fingers, brow furrowed in concentration. The book is old, waterstained, and Celes wonders where she picked it up in this ruined world, what she's so intent on drawing. 

"Can I see?" she asks.

Terra frowns, then tilts the sketchbook in her direction.

It isn't – practiced, Celes thinks abstractly, there's no real technique, although when precisely she went from general to critic she doesn't know. But it doesn't matter that the lines are uneven and a little wild, because she recognizes this picture, and the likeness is – remarkable. A little frightening.

It's Vector.

Not the palace, impressive as it is. Not the labs. The city, a tangled sprawl of wood and stone and machinery, market stalls and tenements stacked on top of each other like honeycomb. And people, or the suggestions of people, blurred shapes all energy and motion.

"This is good," she says, "this is really... where'd you learn to draw like that?"

Terra looks down, blushing a little. Her hair falls across her face, and Celes fights the vagrant impulse to brush it back, to let her hand linger.

"Relm's been showing me," Terra says, half-smiling. "Seemed to think I needed a hobby."

"This one seems to suit you," Celes says. Vector's gone now, she remembers. Apparently its ghost remains. Terra pushes the book into her hands, abrupt, insistent.

“Keep it,” she says. “That city was never mine.”


End file.
